


Now no one's celebrating

by thisismetrying



Series: Evermore - B2 Style [1]
Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismetrying/pseuds/thisismetrying
Summary: Benny’s voice catches in his throat, not sure where he’s going to go. In his mind, he had all of this planned out, a big elaborate speech with numerous chess references, a speech declaring to her and to everyone that he loved her. But now, looking at her and into her eyes, those words don’t come to him.Instead, he kneels and cuts to the endgame.Inspired by "Champagne Problems" by Taylor Swift as part of a series of songfics because Evermore gives big Beth/Benny vibes
Relationships: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts
Series: Evermore - B2 Style [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071752
Comments: 44
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has very little editing but has been in my mind the past few days. Highly suggest listening to "Champagne Problems" while reading. Characters and song lyrics belong to their respective owners (not me).

_You booked the night train for a reason_ _  
So you could sit there in this hurt  
Bustling crowds or silent sleepers  
You're not sure which is worse_

Benny grips the steering wheel, the road ahead of him stretching out into the endless night. This is his second day driving on the interstate back toward New York. The traffic alternates between heavy traffic near the cities and eerie quiet that comes with passing small towns. He wishes his mind could be as quiet as those towns, wishes the silence would envelope him. 

Instead, his thoughts wallow in the past few days.

-

_Because I dropped your hand while dancing  
Left you out there standing  
Crestfallen on the landing  
Champagne problems_

He and Beth had been dating for just about two years now. After she had come back from Moscow, Benny had sought her out in Lexington and the rest had been history. (Or so he thought).

Beth still lived in Lexington and Benny still lived in New York, but they lived together. They made it work. Besides, most of the time one or both of them were at a tournament.

Last Christmas, their first Christmas together, they had stayed in New York, Beth marveling at the Rockefeller tree and the magic of the city. This Christmas, they were in Lexington, at Beth’s house.

Christmas was always a big thing at Matheun but it wasn’t a _holiday._ At Matheun, Christmas had meant long mass in Chapel and extra prayers. Not anymore, for Beth. Honoring Alma’s adoration of the holiday, Beth went all out for the holiday. Lights strung up around the outside of the house, wreath on the door, a grand Christmas tree near the grand piano, presents, and most important, friends and family.

In the days leading up to Christmas, Beth is positively _joyful,_ putting up decorations, dancing around to Christmas tunes, buying chess sets to donate to the local toy drive. Benny watches with adoring amusement. For his part, he’s just happy to see Beth so happy. And he is _very_ happy about the addition of mistletoe to the hallway arch. Just as he maneuvers pieces on the board, he’s found a surprising number of ways for them to end up under that sprig. (Of course, Beth has even more moves up her sleeve, and seeing his glee, adds several more touches of mistletoe around the house).

Beth invites all their friends – really, their found family, over for Christmas day. Jolene, Harry, Matt, Mike, Levertov, Wexler, and even Cleo.

Levertov, Wexler, and Cleo arrived the day before Christmas, opting for hotel room instead of Beth’s spare room, in order to carry on their _activities_ (Cleo said with a wink) undisturbed and without awkwardness. Beth and Benny, for their part, are fine with this, grateful for the continued privacy.

They go out to dinner on Christmas eve, where Beth orders a single Gibson and Benny drinks exactly one beer. Walking home from the restaurant, the snow begins to fall and Benny takes the opportunity to duck them under every doorway with a mistletoe bough. Beth laughs her wonderful laugh and Benny thinks he might be drunk on the sound of it.

When they get home, Beth insists on exchanging presents. Benny first presents her with a nice-enough bracelet that matched her ever-present watch. And while Beth gives the appropriate oohs and ahhs, it’s obvious she’s more intent on giving Benny his present than receiving hers. She springs up the stairs where she retrieved a large flat box from the guest bedroom, practically shoving it into his arms. _Jesus Christ,_ he thinks, _it’s heavy._ He sits down on the couch and gingerly unwraps it. Inside is a beautifully crafted marble chess set. Benny runs his fingers over the fine pieces in awe, savoring the exquisite craftmanship.

“Now you don’t have to complain about cheap boards and cheap pieces,” Beth says, eyeing the magnificent queen piece.

“I definitely don’t have _anything_ to complain about,” he agrees, pulling her into a kiss. He makes to get up to lead them to the bedroom, only stopping on the landing when he notices Beth is still by the board.

“Don’t you want to play on your new set?” Beth asks breathlessly. She’s already turned toward the set, setting up the pieces.”

Benny’s eyes darts between the stairs that lead to their bedroom and the beautiful chess set. “Of course,” he says. His other present can wait.

-

_Your mom's ring in your pocket  
My picture in your wallet  
Your heart was glass, I dropped it  
Champagne problems_

_You told your family for a reason  
You couldn't keep it in  
Your sister splashed out on the bottle  
Now no one's celebrating_

Their friends arrive at the house on Christmas day, after a leisurely morning lounging in bed where Beth beats Benny thrice at chess. Beth spends at least a half hour deciding on which dress to wear, a seductive scarlet number or a lovely evergreen A-line. Still lounging in his robe, Benny suggests that she wear neither, which earns him a slap to the back of the head. (Beth chose the scarlet dress).

Harry comes a few hours earlier than the others, to help get the meal ready. Really, to cook it himself. As Harry had said to them, “Both of you can’t cook for shit.” Neither Beth or Benny had much argument with that. Besides, it gives them a little more time to sneak up to their room for some more fun before the festivities. Harry, for his part, rolls his eyes at them and good-naturedly reminds them that they aren’t teenagers anymore and they should be able to control themselves. Though he doesn’t know whether or not he was lecturing them about sex or chess. He supposes they aren’t so sure themselves.

Levertov, Wexler, and Cleo arrive next, coming just as the hors d’oeuvres were ready. Harry sets out a tray of deviled eggs on the kitchen counter. Cleo picks one up, delicately tasting it. “”Dis is fabulous, Harry,” she says, making the former Kentucky State Champion blush.

Beth and Benny rush downstairs, their flushed cheeks and slightly askew clothes a telling sign. “And what have you two been up to?” Cleo asks knowingly, not expecting an answer but giving each a kiss hello.

“Cleo,” Benny says warningly, but Cleo waves him off.

“What? I am asking after old friends. I want to know _everything,_ ” Cleo says as she pulls out a bottle of vodka from a brown paper bag. Harry, Levertov, and Wexler look at Beth uneasily.  
  
“It’s alright,” Beth says, handling it with grace. “I can have a drink every now and then. I’ve been off drinking like that for a year and half now,”

Harry, Levertov, and Wexler still look unconvinced.

Benny slides an arm around Beth’s waist. “It’s fine. We don’t usually keep alcohol in the house but it’s a holiday.” He nods toward the fridge, “Actually, there’s some champagne in the fridge, it being a special occasion and all.”

At that, the doorbell rings and Beth goes to answer it. 

“So, you want to know everything?” Benny asks the remaining crowd, with that signature smirk of his.

“Of course,” Cleo responds.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Harry inquires, innocently.

“Have you two figured out a good new problem?” Leretov asks excitedly.

Wexler interjects, “No, I’m sure it’s that they’re both going to Moscow again.”

Benny shakes his head at the lot of them. “I mean, we _are_ going to Moscow again in a few months, but that’s not what I meant.” He puts his hand in his pocket and brings out a velvet box.

“What’s that?” Levertov and Wexler ask simultaneously, while Harry’s face takes on a curious, but not surprised look.

This time, Cleo slaps both Wexler and Levertov. “It is an engagement ring, you fools!” She turns toward Harry, exclaiming “Men are so stupid!”

Harry is looking at Benny. “You’re going to ask her?” He shuffles. “Today? I mean.” He had an unreadable look on his face.

Benny nods solemnly and flips the box closure up, revealing a ring that perfectly matches the necklace he gave Beth last night and that is currently adorning her neck.

“Beautiful,” Cleo exhales.

“You’re sure, man?” Wexler asks.

Levertov nods, “Yeah, for all that we like Beth, and are glad that someone can finally kick your ass in chess, this is a big step.” He pauses and glances toward the door, seeing and hearing that Beth and the newly arrived guests are outside, checking out a new car or something like that. “You never seemed like the settling down type to any of us.”

Benny glances toward the door as well, catching sight of Beth’s red hair in the yard as she turns to walk back toward the house. Toward him.

“Yeah, I’ve never been more sure.”

-

_Dom Pérignon, you brought it  
No crowd of friends applauded  
Your hometown skeptics called it  
Champagne problems_

_You had a speech, you're speechless  
Love slipped beyond your reaches  
And I couldn't give a reason  
Champagne problems_

Beth, Jolene, Matt, and Mike rejoin the group in the kitchen after a while. After a bit of catching up, Harry shoos them all out of the kitchen so he can finish preparing. They go to the living room, where Benny proudly shows off the new chess board and they all play a few games. Even Cleo and Jolene try, playing against each other, but eventually push their board aside and chat while the rest are immersed in intense matches. Beth suggests speed chess against the lot of them and no one can refuse her. Sure enough, she beats all of them soundly, although Benny and her match takes the longest. When she checkmates him, the admiration in his eyes is clear to everyone. Cleo leans over and whispers something to Jolene.

Harry calls them all into dinner then, and the chess pieces are left scattered over the living room floor. Dinner is delicious and Cleo threatens to leave Levertov and Wexler for Harry, on account of their subpar cooking skills. They all drink water or juice with their meal.

Once they’re all full, they retire back to the living room. Matt surprises them by taking to the piano and playing a few tunes along with the radio. A few tears spring to Beth’s eyes but they quickly evaporate when Benny pulls her into a dance.

Soon enough, they’re all dancing around Beth’s living room, the Christmas lights outside twinkling.

During a slow song, Beth rests her head against Benny’s chest. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” she says. “I’m so glad to celebrate it with you.”

Benny rests his head atop hers, softly swaying them. “This is the best year I’ve had,” he says.

Beth looks up at him. “Really? Even better than the year you won all those titles?” She asks. “Before I came along?”

“Definitely.”

The song starts to fade out and Matt takes his fingers off the keys.

Beth detaches herself from Benny and laughs. “Did you hear that everyone? Benny Watts just said that this year is better than the year he won seven titles.” She smiles at him, her eyes sparkling.

Spurred by the moment, he grabs her hand. “It’s true, Beth.” He starts, then clears his throat, and all of their friends’ eyes are on them.

“Beth Harmon, this year and the past two years have been the best of my life. Not because I won a ton of titles. In fact, I’ve hardly won any at all since you’ve beat me any time we play in the same tournament.” The room gives a soft giggle. Beth looks up at him with curious eyes.

  
Benny’s voice catches in his throat, not sure where he’s going to go. In his mind, he had all of this planned out, a big elaborate speech with numerous chess references, a speech declaring to her and to everyone that he _loved_ her. But now, looking at her and into her eyes, those words don’t come to him. 

Instead, he kneels and cuts to the endgame. 

“Beth Harmon, will you marry me?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Isn’t it beautiful?” Beth breathes. Benny nods. She takes her time, looking at all the details of this odd, haphazard but somehow amazing, chess set up. Benny notices her eyes settling on the rubies in the ring for a little longer than anything else.
> 
> “It’s like us,” Beth declares. He doesn’t know how, but he nods. It makes sense. 
> 
> “A beautiful mess,” Benny says. “Like us, like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know I said this was going to be a two-shot, but I couldn't stop writing this part (it was really only supposed to be a few paragraphs), so now it's going to be a three-parter.

_Your Midas touch on the Chevy door  
November flush and your flannel cure  
"This dorm was once a madhouse"  
I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"_

~Before Christmas~

They’d spent the fall in New York. There was a decent number of tournaments and they were comfortable.

They didn’t spend all their time in Benny’s apartment playing chess anymore. They went out to dive bars, played chess in Union Square, and walked in Central Park.

Sometimes, they met up with Levertov, Wexler, and Cleo, and other friends of Benny’s. Even met up with Townes once. Jolene had come down to visit a few times. But mostly, they were content in their little bubble.

For her part, Beth found the city exhilarating. She loved Lexington—that would always be home to her—but New York had its own magic. She loved walking and window shopping (and sometimes, after an especially lucrative tournament or press engagement, even shopping) on 5th Avenue. She loved the glamorous and unglamorous people alike bustling on the sidewalks. She liked the anonymity, able to just walk on the street without being stopped and gawked at as the chess prodigy.

She liked playing chess in Union Square. It reminded her of the park in Moscow. Sometimes, she’d take the train there and wouldn’t play, would just sit and watch. Watch the old men engrossed in their games for hours, watch the young kid on vacation beg their parents to let them play a game and be swindled out of a dollar, watch the pieces gliding across the board.

Sometimes, she’d take Benny down there and they’d play, their games always garnering a crowd. Sometimes, someone would recognize them from a magazine cover or a chess aficionado would be present, but more often, people would gather simply because they saw two people who loved the game—and who loved each other.

But they always came back to that apartment. And chess, Benny’s set perpetually set up on the folding kitchen table.

Since Beth and Benny started living together (though they didn’t exactly live in one place, and neither had really formally addressed that they’d started living together—it had just happened), Beth had started to spruce up the basement apartment.

Benny had never been ashamed of his apartment. It was cheap, leaving his money to be spent on other, more important things. It provided him a warm place to sleep and eat when he wasn’t traveling (which wasn’t often, anyway). It was functional. Most importantly, he could play chess undisturbed there.

He was surprised when he had come back from an errand one day and saw the little tree by the door. It was a small, thin little thing, hardly more than branches, in a giant pot. He didn’t know how Beth had gotten it in there, but he found he didn’t mind.

He didn’t mention the tree and neither did she. They went on as they were.

From there, it was little things. Nothing that altered the apartment so drastically. For both Beth and Benny, its primary purpose was still to play chess, sleep, and eat. But slowly, little things started coming into the house. A watercolor print of a chess board. A velvet throw pillow. A rack to hold all the magazines with their faces on it. A gilded tray for Beth’s jewelry.

The apartment wasn’t simply Benny anymore. It didn’t become Beth either though. It was Beth and Benny.

-

_How evergreen, our group of friends_ _  
Don't think we'll say that word again  
And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls  
That we once walked through_

A few days before they’re due to leave back to Kentucky, having decided to spend the colder winter months in Kentucky, they have friends over.

Levertov, Wexler, and Cleo arrive, bustling with the contagious spirit of the soon-to-come holidays, bringing along a few other friends. Levertov and Wexler brought along a few other chess buddies, who all greet both Benny and Beth warmly, excited to meet the chess champions. Cleo, for all her disdainful talk of models, brings along two fellow models who she apparently doesn’t find _too_ disdainful. If the looks exchanged between Cleo and one of the models, Alexa, can be believed, it doesn’t seem like Cleo disdains her at all.

Leverov and Wexler make themselves actually useful for once and prepare the food (just cheese and meat and bread, so the preparation is minimal, but still) and the rest of them pop open a bottle of champagne.

Beth’s been relatively sober for a while now, and it’s not like she doesn’t have a beer with Benny every now and then, but she hasn’t drunk anything else for a long time. When Alexa offers a glass to Beth, both Benny and Cleo eye her warily as she accepts. Benny’s nervous, but he also trusts Beth. She’s come a long way.

The night goes excellently. After they eat, and a few rounds of speed chess, where _again_ Beth defeated them all handily, the group settles into little pockets of conversation. Beth, on her third glass of champagne, with a couple of beers mixed in as well, finds herself dizzily lying on her back in the bedroom, with Cleo and Alexa next to her. There’s nothing untoward going on, they’re all fully clothed, just lying back in the giddy haze of a few drinks. Alexa and Cleo have their hands intertwined.

(Beth and Benny are not the hand-holding type. Benny tried it once, while they were out on a walk on in Central Park, and Beth hadn’t pulled away exactly, but it felt _weird._ Always being able to read her, Benny had dropped her hand. It was much better walking side by side, arms brushing. They weren’t the type of couple who needed to hold hands.)

Beth thinks about that hand-holding walk now. The girls are mindlessly chattering, telling Beth all about some fashion week and all the pretty dresses. Cleo jealously mentions that Christmas colors are Beth’s colors. Deep red and winter tree green.

Then the conversation turns to other things, but Beth doesn’t really hear. She’s still thinking about hand-holding. She sees how close and _intimate_ Cleo and Alexa seem. How their hands stay intertwined, how their heads bow together, Cleo’s lips brushing Alexa’s earshell as she whispers something to her, the unembarrassed and long kiss that Alexa gives Cleo as she promises to be back before ducking back into the main room.

Cleo turns on her side to face Beth, who is still lying on her back, staring up at the concrete ceiling. “She is mesmerizing,” Cleo says. “I think I’m in love,” she declares, in that effortless Cleo way of hers. As if sharing emotions like that is no big deal.

Beth continues to stare at the ceiling, the slight cracks beginning to become a little more hazy, her body on the mattress feeling lighter and lighter.

Cleo continues, “I’ve only known her a few months but it feels like forever.” Her voice is a bit breathless, as if just thinking about Alexa sends her into a tailspin. Maybe it’s the champagne, though. “I’d like to spend forever with her. I’ve never felt this way with a man.”

Beth suddenly sits up and looks beside her at Cleo, piercing her with that stare of hers. “How do you know?” she asks.

“Know what?” Cleo asks, confused, as if she didn’t just say a million things that have Beth confused.

“Love,” Beth swallows. “How do you know you’re in love?” Her hands are gripping the sheets, she’s trying to get purchase on the room, the world, her feelings.

At this, Cleo’s tipsy stupor dissipates. She stills, also sitting up and looks Beth square in the eyes. “Are you asking me how I know I’m in love or are you asking if you’re in love?”

Beth doesn’t answer, just plants her feet on the floor, trying to clear her head. Images of Benny and her, walking downtown, playing chess in the park, laying in this very bed together, flood her mind. She also remembers when she faltered when he reached for her hand.

“There is not a checklist, or a list of moves you have to do, to know,” Cleo continues. “You’re mathematical brain might have a hard time figuring it out, but it is, how do you say it, just there. It is a feeling, Beth.”

Alexa’s shadow darkens the door then, and Cleo gets up to join her, reaching for her hand. At the doorway, Cleo looks back at Beth. “You’ll know when you know.”

Beth stays on the bed for a bit, her head spinning, the thoughts crashing around her head. _Am I in love? Do I know what love is? Do I know what being in love is? Does Benny love me?_

(Benny had told her he loved her, once. A few months ago. They’d been at Coney Island. She’d beaten him at mental chess and they’d been walking along the boardwalk, looking out at the ocean. She’d put her elbows on the rail dividing the boardwalk and the sand, her head resting delicately on her hands, as she did when she was contemplating a move in chess. There, she seemed to be contemplating all the world. _I love you,_ he blurted out. He had thought he’d be horrified to say those words, but they had felt as natural as breathing for him. When she’d closed her eyes and breathed in, not responding to him for a long minute, he’d walked back his steps. _You don’t have to say back, I just want you to know._ She had nodded and turned to him, stepping closer, fingertips touching but not taking his hand. _Oh, Benny,_ she’d said.)

 _Does she love Benny? She thinks of how weird it felt to hold hands. But she also thinks of the rainy afternoons spent in his apartment, curled up with Chess Review and playing mental chess with him, and feeling like that’s where she’s supposed to be. She thinks she might and she thinks she might not._ It doesn’t make sense, exactly, but drunken thoughts don’t often.

Eventually, she gets up, and she sees Benny’s eyes light up with something when she emerges from the bedroom. She smiles shyly back and goes to the kitchen where the models are congregated. She pours herself another glass of champagne and downs it quickly. She pours herself another.

She’s just starting to reingratiate herself into the conversation when she feels a soft hand on her elbow. It’s Benny, his brow furrowed.

“You okay?” he asks, eyes flickering between her face and the glass. His brown eyes stare depths into hers.

She feels light, and she’s not thinking about Cleo and Alexa, or love, or holding hands anymore. She’s thinking about Benny and the way his deep brown eyes drown her like rich whiskey.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” he asks, hesitantly. She nods, taking another sip of her champagne, daring him to talk about it.

He doesn’t. “Okay,” he breathes. “Want to replay your match with Borgov? Everyone would love to see it.” Even though that game has been played in chess bum’s living rooms over and over again for months now. But he seems to know what would make her happy.

Something bubbles in her chest and she doesn’t quite know what it is. “Yes, I’d love to.”

-

After she and Benny play her Borgov match and a few more rounds of chess, their guests depart, wishing them happy holidays. Levertov and Wexler mention something about perhaps coming to Kentucky for the holidays and Beth and Benny readily agree.

When it’s just them, they start cleaning up the bottles and the glasses. Benny still eyes Beth warily, almost as if he’s not sure if she’ll end up passed out on the bathroom floor at some point in the night. Still, he doesn’t say anything. Still, she knows what he’s thinking.

“I’m fine, Benny, really.” She says slowly, not sure if it’s the alcohol or that she’s trying to emphasize her point. Maybe both. “Sure, I’m a little tipsy, but I’m not going to black-out.”

“Okay,” he says.

They go about their normal bedtime routine, Beth slipping into bed first as Benny brushes his teeth.

The sheets are cool around her skin and she wants Benny to come to bed quickly so she can wrap herself around him.

He seems to take forever to brush his teeth. Her mind wanders through the night. The speed chess, the champagne, Cleo and Alexa, the light kiss on her lips Benny gave her when he “conceded” the Borgov match. The look he gave her when she came into the room. That feeling in her chest bubbles up again. 

The mattress dips beside her and Benny settles in, turning on his side to face her. Only the lamp on the nightstand is on now, highlighting Beth’s face. He reaches for a stray hair that falls in front of her eyes, pushing it behind her ear.

“Beth, I—”

“I love you,” she says suddenly, surprising herself. Benny looks even more surprised, but the look quickly turns into one of pure happiness. Beth feels the champagne rush to her head.

“I love you too, Beth Harmon,” he says and pulls her into a searing kiss that makes Beth feel like her brain is sinking. She lets it.

-

The next day, they take a walk around midtown, window shopping and admiring the newly emerged holiday displays. At least, Beth looks. Benny looks at Beth.

This morning, they didn’t talk about it. About Beth’s drinking, about the mind-blowing sex, _about the “I love yous.”_ They’re not a _talking_ couple like that. Instead, Beth had invited Benny to walk with her around 5th Avenue. She usually takes these walks alone. Benny quickly agrees.

They pass department stores, clothing stores, toy stores (where Beth drags Benny in to look at the chess sets), and jewelry stores, all displaying the latest and greatest trends. They stop for roasted nuts and hot chocolate from a street cart.

Beth takes a sip of the chocolately drink and breathes in the air, listens to the Christmas carols playing over the din of traffic, sees the lights behind her eyelids. “I love the city,” she says, her eyes closed.

 _And me?_ Benny thinks. He watches her like he’s starving and only she has what can nourish him.

They end up walking onto a side street in a less glamorous, but no less decorated, part of the city. The windows are dressed oddly, but still cheerfully. There’s a bunch of vintage and curio shops on this street, their shop windows displaying any number of odds and ends.

“Look!” Beth stops them in front of a somewhat dusty storefront. In the windowfront is a giant chessboard. Or at least, what’s supposed to be a chessboard. On closer look, Benny can see that the “board” is really marble tiles cobbled together to form a board. On top, the “pieces” are all types of odds and ends the store has. Delicate nutcracker dolls, china teacups, necklace chains, imported mini liquor bottles. In the center, there’s an actual queen piece. Gingerly hanging around it is a bronze ring with small ruby stones laid in the center. Around the chessboard, fake snow adorns the window, with pinecones and Christmas tree branches laid around. It’s a bit gauche but it has an overall magical effect.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Beth breathes. Benny nods. She takes her time, looking at all the details of this odd, haphazard but somehow amazing, chess set up. Benny notices her eyes settling on the rubies in the ring for a little longer than anything else.

“It’s like us,” Beth declares. He doesn’t know how, but he nods. It makes sense.

“A beautiful mess,” Benny says. “Like us, like you.”

Now, Beth nods. _He gets it. He gets me. Mess and all._

They stand there a little more, just looking at this non-sensical, thrown together set that somehow, when together makes all the sense in the world.

When they turn to leave, Beth reaches for Benny’s hand. And he doesn’t pull away.

-

Three days later, and two hard-fought, but lucrative, games of poker later, Benny returns to the shop and purchases the ruby ring right out of the display window.


	3. Chapter 3

_One for the money, two for the show_ _  
I never was ready, so I watch you go  
Sometimes you just don't know the answer  
'Til someone's on their knees and asks you_

Benny’s voice catches in his throat, not sure where he’s going to go. In his mind, he had all of this planned out, a big elaborate speech with numerous chess references, a speech declaring to her and to everyone that he _loved_ her. But now, looking at her and into her eyes, those words don’t come to him. 

Instead, he kneels and cuts to the endgame. 

“Beth Harmon, will you marry me?”

-

Everything stills for a moment. Everyone’s eyes are on Beth and Benny. Benny Watts is on one knee, with a ring in hand, proposing to Beth Harmon.

Beth breathes in and out, her eyes on the ruby ring in the velvet box in Benny’s hand. She looks up to his face, which is so full of love and hope.

Around the room, everyone is looking on with expectant stares.

“Benny,” she starts. _And he knows. He knows._ Knows that she’s going to say no. Knows that she doesn’t feel the same way. Knows from the scared look that flickered in her eyes for just a second before retreating. Knows from the way she steps away.

“I see,” he says. He gets up, giving himself a second to try to maintain his composure, though he knows he’ll soon fail.

But he doesn’t make a scene, doesn’t start crying, doesn’t start yelling, doesn’t beg her to reconsider, though he feels like doing all of the above. That’s not Benny Watts. He simply walks upstairs.

Beth and the others watch him disappear upstairs. After an awkward moment of silence, there is shuffling and people gathering their things. They wave awkward goodbyes to Beth and close the door behind them. Beth is rooted to the floor, in the same place she stood half an hour ago, when Benny asked her to marry him.

_Marriage!_ She can’t say she hasn’t thought about it before, but it’s been in an abstract way, almost like the way she thinks of problems. She never actually thought they’d be in this position. And when she had squinted into the future, she thought she might even say yes.

Her first coherent thought is _He’s going to leave_.

Beth takes a deep breath in and out, trying to expel her ghosts. _It’s okay, it’s okay. This was an anomaly. He just got caught up in the holiday spirit. He’ll calm down and then we’ll go on as we always do. Just Beth and Benny. Benny and Beth. He loves her and she thinks she loves him. And that needs to be enough right now._ They are not a marrying couple, and he knows that, she tells herself.

“Cracker, how you doing?” Jolene’s voice interrupts Beth’s thought process. Like any good sister, Jolene had stayed.

“I…I don’t know,” Beth admits.

“That’s okay. This is a lot.”

“No…I mean, I didn’t know. I didn’t know until now,” Beth clarifies. “I had thought I would probably say yes.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t realize until he asked,” Beth says, more calm now. She sits down on the velvet couch. “I didn’t think he’d ask so soon. I didn’t think that was what he wanted.”

“He wants _you,_ Cracker,” Jolene admonishes.

Beth shakes her head. “No. I mean, yes, he does want me. But he also wants more with me. And I didn’t realize until now that this was his endgame.”

“I’m only in the openings” she says. Putting life into chess terms makes it easier. Makes it easier to feel like life is confined to those 64 squares on the board.

Despite not being a chess fan at all, Jolene understands. “It’s okay, honey.” She sits and puts her arm around Beth’s narrow shoulders.

They stay like that for a while, Benny still upstairs.

Finally, Jolene unwraps herself from around Beth. “I’m supposed to work tomorrow, but I can call out if you need…”

Beth shakes her head, though she’s enormously grateful for her friend. “No, Jolene, thank you,” she glances up towards the stairs. “I can handle this. Things will be alright,” she curls her knuckles into her dress.

“Alright, Cracker, let me know if you need anything.” And soon enough, Jolene departs too, though not without promises to call every day and come over next weekend as well.

It’s just Beth in the living room and Benny upstairs.

-

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, but eventually she gets up and starts cleaning up the place. It’s methodical, it’s familiar, it doesn’t give her too much room to think, if she doesn’t let it. She goes over a grandmaster game in her mind.

Finally, after what feels like hours, (though Beth notices by a glance at the clock, it’s actually only been an hour), Benny comes down the stairs. Beth braces her hands on the counter, waiting.

Benny enters the living area, leather coat on. “You didn’t come up,” he says.

She nods. “I didn’t think you wanted me to. I thought you needed…space,” she settles on.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s me that needs the space.” The following silence hangs heavy in the air. There is so much to say, and nothing to say at all.

“Why?” he asks.

Beth lifts her head, meeting his gaze. “I, it’s just not us, Benny.”

“What’s not us?” He looks genuinely confused.

She glances around the room. “This,” she gestures with a vague sweep of her arms.

“This?” He says incredulously. “Being happy?”

“Benny, no.”

“Then what?” He says, his voice becoming bitter.

To that, she doesn’t have an articulate answer. Beth Harmon, who always has all the answers, all the right moves, doesn’t know what to say. To her credit, she doesn’t try to say anything.

He stares at her, hard. “I’m going back to New York.”

At this, she snaps up her head. “Why?”

“I think you’ve made it clear that I don’t have a place here.”

“Benny, that’s not fair,” she says, starting to feel something pinch in her chest. “I never said that. We were _fine._ We _are_ fine. Can’t we just go on like we were?”

He continues his hard stare. “Do you even love me?”

“Benny. Why are you asking me this? I told you I loved you, I told you in November,” She’s starting to feel exasperated now. “I don’t know what this has to do with you staying.”

“It has everything to do with it, Harmon!” he shouts. He’s surprised by his outburst. Beth might be too, but he can’t tell as the only change in her posture is that her hands curl into fists on the counter.

He steadies his breathing. “Say it, tell me,” he asks desperately.

Her eyes shift around the kitchen before landing back on his. “What do you want me to say, Benny?” She knows, and he knows, and she knows he knows.

“You can’t even say it again, can you?” He asks, and laughs mirthlessly. “Here I am, asking you to goddamn _marry me_ and you can’t even tell me you love more than once.”

“I’m not going to say it just because you want me to say it.”

He sighs, seemingly letting out all of the pent-up anger in him. “I know, Harmon, I know.” He heads back into the hallway, Beth cautiously following him but stopping a few feet short of him. She sees his luggage is packed.

He picks up his suitcase and slings a duffel bag over his shoulder and goes to the door. He yanks it open. “I should have known no one, not even me, could checkmate the queen.” And with that, he leaves.

Beth stands there. A part of her is screaming at herself _Go after him, you idiot! Run after him and just tell him you love him. You two can work things out!_ The emotional part wants to.

The rational, calculating (and stubborn) part that has brought her everything so far tells her something different. _Why go after him? He wants what you can’t, won’t, give him._ She shakes her head. Running after him might be romantic, like the heroines in those movies Alma always watched, but it wasn’t realistic. It wouldn’t get them anywhere. It’d be a delaying of the inevitable. A mere adding more sidestepping moves to the game when you and your opponent both already know how the endgame is going to go.

She leaves the door closed and goes back into the kitchen to find the bottle of vodka Cleo left behind.

-

_"She would've made such a lovely bride  
What a shame she's fucked in her head," they said  
But you'll find the real thing instead  
She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred_

_And hold your hand while dancing  
Never leave you standing  
Crestfallen on the landing  
With champagne problems_

_Your mom's ring in your pocket  
Her picture in your wallet  
You won't remember all my  
Champagne problems_

Benny’s sprawled out on the couch cushions on his New York floor, staring at the last game he and Beth played. He’s been like this for days, just laying there, not doing much. Much besides replaying the past few days in his head.

He’s not drinking or getting high, but he’s not doing _anything._

Cleo, Wexler, and Leretov had all called. Telling him to come on out, to drink, to play chess, to forget. He declined. But they had continued to call.

“Tough break man, it would have been a nice wedding,” Wexler said over the phone, attempting to be helpful.

“Now you have more time to play chess again,” Leretov offers, also trying to be helpful. It’s not. He doesn’t want to play chess without Beth. What’s the fun in the sport if there’s no one to share it with?

“She is fucked,” Cleo says. “Fucked in the head. She’s got problems, that girl.”

“Thanks, Cleo,” Benny says wryly. He doesn’t want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to do anything.

“Take it from another girl who is fucked in the head, always thinking she has found love,” Cleo says, rather unhelpfully.

“Beth doesn’t think she’s found love, that’s the problem, Cleo,” Benny grits out.

“That was not the problem, Benny,” Cleo says.

“Then what was?” He asks resignedly.

“Sometimes you just do not know until the moment. It can’t be helped,” Cleo offers as one last cryptic sentence.

He hangs up.

Days later, maybe weeks, he’s not really sure, his phone rings again. He picks up, ready to tell Wexler or Leretov or Cleo or whoever to fuck off.

“Benny?” a soft but clear voice asks at the other end.

He immediately sits up. “Beth?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Silence.

“Look, I’m sorry about how things ended,” she starts.

_Ended?_ Are they really over? Somehow, in his mind, that they were _over_ hadn’t registered in his mind. Sure, he was in New York and she was in Kentucky and she’d rejected his proposal, but it wasn’t _over_ right? She had wanted things to just go back to normal anyway right? In _normal,_ they were together.

She clears her throat, bringing him back to the phone. “But, I think it’s for the best.”

_For the best? What in the damn hell was she talking about?_

“You’ll find someone else. Someone else who wants to get married and be Mrs. Benny Watts and do all that stuff,” she rushes out. _And who isn’t broken. Who doesn’t have all my problems. Doesn’t have my drinking problems. Doesn’t have abandonment issues. No champagne problems._

He feels strangled on the other end. He wants to say something, anything, _(he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want just anyone, he just wants her)_ but he can’t bring himself to. The silence hangs through the line. Finally, sensing that he’s not going to say anything, she ends it. “Goodbye, Benny.”

-

In New York, he stumbles to the kitchen and pulls out an old bottle of champagne that must be bad by now, but he uncorks it and pours a glass anyway.

In Kentucky, she hangs up the phone and goes back to her fresh bottle of champagne. At least this is _a reason_ to drink.

_You won't remember all my_ _  
Champagne problems_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a fun time writing this. I'm also (vainly) in love with this Champagne Problems AU so I'm probably going to continue to write a series of one-shots about the aftermath of this (though I'm aiming to make them readable as standalones as well). Thank you for reading and commenting!

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially going to be a one-shot but I got tired so it's now going to be a two-shot.


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